Mother Knows Best
by wolfluvermh
Summary: With the thickening tide and the scent of war on the wind, Cadeliah's prophecy for a new dawn seems to be forcing itself upon the world. Only some survive, and the cutthroat nature of those winning frightens all. Even with the danger of civilians, stranger things still occur, unnatural things. Kendra and Seth must brave the fearsome Mother to learn the truth...
1. Prologue

**~The Wolfen Chronicles: Mother Knows Best~**

**Prologue**

The faint pounding of the soldier's combat boots against the stone floor, echoed off the high walls and distorted out of reason until it almost seems as if the empty passageway is wailing, begging him to turn back rather than continue his punctilious march down its cold, wet gullet.

If it hadn't been for the sheer quantity of quivering shadows and things moving in the corners of his eyes, the little soldier most likely would've enjoyed his time here, so far beneath the skin of the earth, safe from the clawing talons of both society and its abject wrath – his only job is to guard the one little creature, to shield it from the eyes of those above. Had it only been his quotidian duties, the little soldier would've felt comfortable, secure – but the presence that lingers above his redundant life, so massive and powerful, grating on the edges of his consciousness, drains all pleasure from his job.

He hadn't even started that long ago. It's only his second week down in the hellhole. And, already, he's missing the scorching desert sun above.

Awaiting the soldier at the end of the long chamber is another man, peeking his head expectantly through the heavy iron door shutting off the poor soul from the rest of the world. The other man seems bitter, annoyed, his harsh face ruddy with irritation.

"Hurry up then, green thumb!" the man barks. "We don't have all day, now, do we? I don't, that's for sure!"

Taking great care to hide the mumbled curses he utters, the soldier breaks into a jog, closing the distance rapidly. As he nears the prison cell, sweat prickles along the back of his neck.

Releasing a heavy breath upon arrival, the soldier slips through the heavy metal door, nudging it open with a shrill creak of hinges. The man put on previous guard duty is leaning against the wall, watching him with shrewd judgment.

"You be careful, newbie," he growls, gravelly tones reflecting upon his sharp, hardened features. "She's been more active than ever before. I haven't seen her so twitchy since the first atomic bomb hit the skin of the earth. Lil' girl's been babbling all my watch."

"Really?" Puffing out a breath, the soldier furrows his brow and pulls up the creaky iron chair, leaning forward towards the iron bars separating the prisoner and him. "Do you think she's trying to break out of her ring thing?"

"Nah." The older man chuckles roughly, as if the soldier's innocence is amusing. "Listen to her, if you'd like. She's been rambling on 'bout the same stuff for hundreds of years, son. She ain't going nowhere."

And, following his superior's advice, the soldier does listen to the raspy, strained chords of the girl's voice as she repeats the same incantations and praises over and over again. Praying to her mother, whoever that may be. Her pearl grey skin is fresh and smooth in the faint green glow of the dank overhead lights, and her pale hair flows down her back and over the jagged black stones like a cloak of dull silver. Though she seems proportionate to be human, a single glance at her face would vanquish any doubt of her alien tendencies.

"At least she's turning away," the soldier offer optimistically, glancing up at his elder's sharp face. "Those eyes always freak me out. They're like mirrors."

Abruptly, her hoarse chanting cuts off. "Nonbelievers," she shrieks petulantly. "Demons! Satanists! Devils! Leave me! Leave me alone! My mother! My mother is coming! She's coming for you! She will rip out your hearts and feast on your lungs! My mother is coming! Come, mother, come!"

"What a nutjob," the old man mutters, shaking his head in slight pity. "Even if she is a monster, she must've snapped pretty bad somewhere along the way."

Voice mellowing, the prisoner babbles, "Mother, mother! Come to me! My mother is coming! My mother is coming! This way, mother! Through the stone, through the rock, through the lava! Oh, mother, how I have missed you so! My mother is on her way!"

"Do we still have no idea who her mother is?" the soldier questions, tilting his head in the older man's direction. "Or why she prays to her so avidly?"

The man shrugs. "I have no idea, the scientists don't share any of their findings the few times they do get her to cooperate. And, honestly, I don't give a rat's –"

"Mother!" the girl abruptly shrieks, shooting to her feet, the rivers of grey hair pooling around her and swaying with currents of silver. "Mother! Mother! My mother is coming! My mother is coming! Come to me, Mother!"

Snarling out curses like a sailor lost at sea, the man slams the butt of his gun into the iron bars separating the girl from him, each collision sending shivers through the slender poles. "Shut up, would ya? Your mother's never coming for you! For Christ's sake, stop shouting the same things over and over again!"

Slowly, the girl turns, her hair wrapping around her like the cocoon of a butterfly. As her face peeks between the glistening locks, her harrowing features illuminated by the green light, the girl breaks out into a grin sharpened with triangular shark teeth.

"You don't understand," the girl hisses, bristling, leaping down from her perch on the oily black rocks. "My mother. She's _here_."

A reptilian roar shakes the floor, throwing the old man and the soldier tumbling down, cracking their heads against the stone. The long, iron bars peel back like melting candle wicks, the ring imprisoning the fearsome girl straightening into a pole, freeing her from the binds.

"Mother!" the girl shrieks, flying from the cage like a bird first flexing its clipped wings to the sky. Her hair follows like a long train.

Groaning gutturally, the soldier lifts himself onto his hands, but his quaking muscles and the still-trembling floor do not allow him to do much more. Collapsing with a sharp, painful exhale, the soldier manages to at least switch her view on the world. He watches with utter terror as the girl skips delightedly to the door, pausing, awaiting something.

A slitted reptilian eye slides before the door, only visible through the metal hatch, crowned with magnificent sapphire scales and overlapping thorns. It blinks twice with eyelids sliding over the pupils vertically, fixing its gaze on the girl.

Crying out with fear, the soldier squirms over the stone, recoiling even as the eye sinks below the window the doorway provides, as scale disappears beneath the floor. How? If a creature can go below the floor-level door, where has the walkway gone?

Before the soldier can ponder it very long, though, the girl walks out, standing on the edge of the door, teetering at the ledge without a care that she may be casting herself into somewhere where the floor might've once been.

She turns back once and waggles her fingers at the soldier, grinning devilishly.

Then, crying out with ecstasy, she turns back to the doorway, which is now dominated with a red, fanged maw, slavering with drool and blood together. Without hesitation, the girl flings herself into the beast's mouth, allowing the jaws to snap shut as she embraces the juicy red tongue. Any farewells she might've issued are lost beneath the soldier's screams of horror.

But, with a blink of his eye, all is right again – and that is what frightens him, startles his bones as soon as he processes the change. Behind him, the bars are bent back and the golden ring perturbed, but beyond the doorway, the floor sits once more, as solid as it had ever been – there is no place for the beast to have dwelled.

The soldier blinks in confusion.

There is also no place for the girl to have run to.

* * *

**Guess who's back in business. **

**Alright, alright. Let's get one thing settled right here, before we get too far. For those of you that are innocently clicking on this… it's the third installment in a "triology". You've got to at least start at the second one – Jumping at Shadows – if not Time and Time Again. **

**To all my faithful readers: I have returned, bringing good news! …It's that I have returned. I can't promise speedy updates until summertime hits, but I can promise doing the best I possibly can to get you guys what you deserve. **

**About the stuff above? Yeah, here's the thing: in Jumping at Shadows, I introduced the antagonist first. In Time and Time Again, I introduced one of the protagonists. Some ideas as to whom this is, hmmm?**

**POLL: Just, uh, leave as many reviews as you can under the same name. I wanna see how many I can rack up first chapter.**

**Ciao,**

**~wolfluvermh**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"How are you doing this?" Seth cries in utter frustration, pounding on the buttons of his controller with frustration. "You don't even know what we're doing!"

Giggling, Cassandra mows down another line of alien attackers in the game, her gun spitting bullets at anything that happens to be moving. "I have no idea! But I'm crushing you!"

"How?" Seth demands, throwing down the controller in utter bewilderment as the ending screen flashes, displaying their humiliating difference in score with cheesy action music. "How are you doing this? Sorcery! Witchcraft!"

Cassandra sticks her lower lip out with a pouty face. "Oh, that's not very nice. You're not a very good sport."

"I am a very good sport when the game is not rigged!" he corrects tenaciously. Scowling playfully, he pivots to face Cassandra. "How? How did you do it?"

"I've already told you!" she giggles. "Button mashing works like a charm!"

"What are you two doing in here?" muses a familiar voice from the doorway. A pair of gleaming blue eyes shines from the shadow of the arch. A figure, shrouded in darkness, watches them with a quirked smile.

"Bracken!" Cassandra squeals, tossing down her controller in her exhilaration. Dark eyes sparkling, she dashes to him and wraps both of her pale arms around his torso in an enthusiastic hug. Laughing, Bracken returns the embrace with the same enthusiasm, but in a slightly more dignified manner.

"Hello, Cassandra," he laughs, shaking his head of pale hair from side to side, amusement softening his face. "I don't usually get _this_ warm a welcome from the Sorensons."

"Right, well, she doesn't normally chill around here." Grinning ecstatically at his brother-in-law, Seth rises from the pillows and looks the unicorn over. "Good to see you, Bracken! Is Kendra here?"

"No," answers Cassandra, pulling back from the embrace, "I don't think so. Thought I heard something about her helping establish another one of the Shrines this week. Right?"

"Right," Bracken approves, looking marginally bemused upon why she knows such trivial information – Seth, of course, had stopped wondering such things long ago.

"Tell her to drop by when she comes back, if she's not too tired!" Cassandra's dark eyes sparkle as she speaks. "I haven't spoken to Kendra in forever, and I'm staying the week here!"

"You are?" Bracken smiles benevolently at her. "I thought you couldn't stay very long in one place."

"Well, Alec doesn't like to." Her smile quavers. "And my sister, well, she follows Alec around like a puppy dog, despite all her alpha gruffness. I mean, I couldn't care less for moving around all the time – it's very bothersome. Someday I'm just going to… oh, I don't know…" After a grapple for words evident in her shining gaze, Cassandra abruptly seems triumphant, beaming beatifically. "Someday I'm just going to sit down and make myself a nest!"

Seth, taken aback by the answer, starts laughing in surprise. After a partially wounded, partially amused glare from Cassandra, he laughs harder, clutching his stomach and doubling over. Somehow, as her gaze continues to become more and more sulky, Seth only laughs harder and harder.

"He's so mean to me," Cassandra whimpers to Bracken.

"You're a saint to put up with this rascal," Bracken chuckles in reply. "I swear you're ADHD, Seth."

"Don't let my mom hear you, Bracken," Seth wheezes, resting a hand on the doorframe to lift himself back into his standing position, grinning wolfishly at the unicorn.

"Your mother and I are on good terms, Seth," Bracken scolds, but he still looks over his shoulders nervously, shuffling his feet, seemingly remembering the sharp whip of an umbrella over his shoulders.

"And yet," Seth hums, smiling broader still, "you are terrified of her. I saw that look in your eyes, Princy Pie. Don't let Kendra know, she thinks the two of you are best friends."

"They are!" Cassandra cries. "But Bracken's intimidated by a respectable woman, and it's to be expected. Men are afraid of respectable women. Like you're afraid of me, Seth."

Seth pricks his head and stares down at Cassandra haughtily, sniffing in disdain. "I'm not afraid of you."

Cassandra's laugh is like a chorus of silver bells. "Of course you are. I'm a respectable women, aren't I?"

Bracken's eyes flick back and forth uneasily as Seth refuses to answer her question, glaring into the dark eyes with silence as a buffer. It's as if the unicorn can detect that something is amiss in the young shadow charmer before he himself can pick it up. His rudeness slowly dawns on Cassandra, who'd clearly been expecting Seth to laugh and jokingly reply. Her face crumbles, wings sagging by her sides.

As soon as Seth sees the hurt written across her face, he gasps loudly, eyes wide, and lurches forward with a hand extended. "No, wait! Cassie, I don't know what came over me! That… that wasn't me!"

"You're right." Bracken cocks an eyebrow. "That really, really wasn't like you. It doesn't matter how simple a thing it was – it was bad, Seth."

"I know it wasn't you, Seth," Cassandra squeaks, her dark eyes scintillating like a wounded animal's, fearful and hurt. "That's what scares me, actually."

Seth opens his mouth to respond, to apologize further, trying to mask the hurt her words bring him, but Bracken doubles over in agony, groaning obnoxiously, his fingers pressed to his temple and his blue eyes fluttering shut.

"Unicorn?" Seth asks urgently, leaning down and patting his back awkwardly. "Unicorn? Are you okay? You're okay, right?"

"What the heck," Bracken growls through gritted teeth, his blue eyes barely visible behind the glossy coat of tears on their surface.

From outside the house, a terrified howl sounds, one that quickly morphs into yelps of surprise, then a deep, slow woof of confusion. Seth lifts his head to listen to the canine barks – they sound like they're just outside, just beyond the bubbled glass. Cassandra cocks her head, her fine owl ears assumedly detecting sounds that Seth cannot.

"That's Brach," she informs thoughtfully. "And that wolf laughing? That's River-Song. What are they doing here?"

"Do you think it has anything to do with…" Seth trails off and nods to Bracken; the unicorn still hasn't moved, clutching his head and moaning like an old man. His hands massage at his head through his silvery hair, as if somehow it'd make his head feel better.

Cassandra blinks, and awkwardly pats Bracken's head twice. "Maybe. I'm not sure. Go check it out, I'll get him to a couch or something. Make him some chicken broth. He's got a heck of a headache." Hesitantly, she pats Bracken again. "Get out there, find what's bothering him, and stop it. I doubt Kendra'd take this too kindly, and I doubt he can take too much more of it."

Seth, thinking of his sister's reaction, shudders. He leans forward and pecks Cassandra on the temple. "Sorry about earlier," he murmurs one last time, gathering his cloak around his feet.

Dark eyes glittering broodingly as she stares at the cloak, she shakes her head, white and gold ringlets bouncing over her shoulders. "I don't know, Seth. You haven't acted the same since that cloak ever strung itself around your shoulders. I mean… it's in spurts, you know? Ever since you got that cloak, you've been having weird moments and things."

"It's Chaos's," Seth points out, feeling defensive of the cloak. "He wore it for years and years. Didn't make him a bad guy."

"Didn't make him a good guy, either," Cassandra sighs, meeting Seth's gaze with glitter in her eyes. "Look, just be careful, okay? Darkness isn't a force to be reckoned with."

"I'm a force to be reckoned with," Seth chuckles merrily. "And so are you. I'll go see what's going on out there. If you make soup for the unicorn, can I have some?"

Cassandra arches an eyebrow skeptically. "If you really want some," she consents dubiously. "I don't cook good. I manage to burn soup. It's not very… pleasant tasting. But if you want it, all yours."

"Delicious!" Seth laughs, before setting off through the halls.

To himself, Seth sighs at the familiarity the Sorenson house provides. The paintings on the walls, the rugs clothing the bare wooden floors, the random and unusual knickknacks adorning every shelf – it all reserves a place in his heart as home, no matter how much time he spends at the BBM headquarters. Creaking floorboards sound beneath his feet, each old wooden plank sending a waft of that warm homey scent up at him.

As Seth reaches the front door, he in vain attempts to peer out the bubbled glass in an attempt to get a glimpse of what he's up against – unfortunately, though, the distorted face of the window dispels any hopes of premeditation. Taking a deep breath, he grasps the cold handle and yanks it over.

An overwhelming odor of burnt fur assaults Seth's nose – he'd grown quite familiar with the stench after a hapless group of pups repeatedly tried, and failed, to create an actual mini volcano, complete with lava and little Pompeii citizens fleeing in terror. Scrunching his nose at the reek, Seth looks around until he finds a quite odd scene unfolding.

River-Song is laughing raucously, the tip of her long snout shoved up to the sky. Her white fangs glint belligerently in the sparkling sunlight, winking cruel promises to Seth. The dark reddish brown patches on River-Song's stone-grey fur claim that she's already taken one victim with those nasty ivory chompers – Seth decides he doesn't want to be dessert.

Before her floats Brach, the subject of her ridicule.

Seth understands why the genteel wolf looks so confused – sure, with the gauzy pair of salmon pink and light orange fairy wings at his sides Brach can fly, but he's never seen the pup float before, much less in place, several feet off the ground, unable to move. Brach doesn't bat a wing, doesn't do a thing that could attribute to his flight. It seems as if he's in a place with no gravity.

To assist the theory, ticked-off fairies spiral around Brach's beautiful pure white coat, shaking angry fists at one another and screaming rudely at anything they see. Brach lays his ears back after hearing a rant from a lavender one pinwheeling in front of his muzzle.

"Whoa," Seth barks in surprise, "buddy."

Brach's pinkish orange eyes fly up to meet Seth's, going soft with relief. "Seth!" he yelps, voice cracking. "Help! Please!" He tries to beat his wings, but all that happens is an inch of upwards motion in all.

"Er, okay." Seth skips down the stairs as quickly as he can and marches up to the scene with a furrowed brow. "What happened? Did River-Song do this to you?"

River-Song cuts off from her rough laughter with alarming alacrity. Her lips peel back over her fangs in a silent snarl. "Assuming this is my fault?"

"It was just a question," Seth chides, meeting the wolf's cobalt glare without quavering. "I am a doctor analyzing his patient. You are a suspect. Just sit tight. What happened?"

"I was just walking," Brach babbles nervously, pawing futilely at the air. "Not flying or anything, just walking. Fiona said something about bringing her pups over here to meet up with Cassandra and such, so, you know, I wanted to come, and so we were on our way to the door, right? Well, River-Song collapsed in that patch of shade by the house, and I started walking towards the door – walking, not flying! And then – this just happened! With a feeling in my gut like everything had just gone wrong!"

"Hmm." Seth tilts his head to one side, trying extremely hard not to freak out about the quick, angry trembles running through River-Song's pale blue and grey wings. "Well, I dunno… were all the fairies sucked up, too?"

"Well…" Brach hesitates, tucking his tail as he does so. "Some were. But most were drawn in after trying to help their sisters. Or me. All of us, I guess. Be careful! If you get… bewitched or whatever this is, only River-Song will know our predicament, and we can't trust her at all!"

"So much faith…," River-Song growls sourly, folding her long legs together and burying her nose into the crook of her elbows.

"As if you'd help out," Seth shoots back. "And, Brach… dude, how come it's always you?" Smiling to himself, he shakes his head. "Sorry, bud, you've got the worst luck, and you're the best guy. I'll grab Bracken, see if he knows what's going on."

"Right here," Bracken puffs, shoving open the doors. His face is sheathed in shimmering sweat that glitters in the midday sun, and his skin has a ghastly green pallor to it that seems rather unnatural. After studying the problem before him a few times, he cocks his head with a ruffle of silvery hair, and frowns deeply. "That's not normal," he notes.

"Observant," River-Song grunts.

"Shut up," Seth snaps. "Look, Bracken, you seen anything like this before?" He watches the unicorn painfully struggle down the stairs. "Maybe in fairyland they had a class telling you something about this? Or something like this?"

"Something like this," Bracken acknowledges. "I wonder…"

He hobbles up to the imaginary dome, right up to the line of where the gravity starts to screw up. Fairies pull at his clothing, warning him to turn back with little tinkling voices, but Bracken silences them with a word. After studying the force field in front of him, Bracken extends a hand towards it. A pearly glow burns beneath the skin in his fingers.

With a startled cry, Bracken floats up until he's hovering beside Brach with a confounded expression on his face.

"That didn't work," Seth decides. "Any other ideas?"

"No," squeaks Brach in a terrified voice, his eyes nearly wider than basketballs. Frantically, he flaps vigorously, as if attempting to break the hold of the mystery spot, accidentally hitting a few fairies in the process.

"Stop that," Bracken scolds, righting each of the fairies Brach had thrown off course – which is quite a feat, considering he's upside down himself. "We don't need you stirring up more panic."

"Hold on." Seth scrunches his brow and searches the side of the house with his gaze alone, eyes prying into the shadows for a sign of the garden hose. "I'll do the thing they do with quicksand. In the meantime, Bracken, how about you try and figure out what's going on?"

"I already sort of have an idea," Bracken contemplates as Seth marches off to unfurl the green coil of hose. "There's something fundamentally wrong with this particular spot – almost as if the laws of the universe don't apply here. Or, in this case, gravity doesn't. It's not magic, best I can tell. It's all very, very strange."

"The laws of the universe don't work there, huh?" Seth pauses dragging the hose nozzle out to scratch at his chin. "Hmm. That sounds a lot like one of Cadeliah's theories. I bet I can send Cassie on a search mission through the library on that topic. She loves doing that."

"She does like that library," Brach approves, growing much calmer with the assistance of Bracken. "Whenever I stop in for a bit of light reading, she always seems to be there, nose tucked in a book."

"You don't do light reading," River-Song chides. "You do massive reading."

"Please stop talking," Bracken sighs in irritation.

"Rude," the wolf sniffs, but she occupies herself in the ground.

"Okay, this could work." Seth pitches out the water hose with all the might he can – but as soon as it passes over the invisible line, all of his strength on the hose seems to have gone to waste. It lazily floats towards Bracken, and every fairy within reach desperately grabs the rubber.

"Like quicksand!" Brach yips happily, clamping his fangs onto the bronze nozzle.

"Exactly," Seth approves, smiling at them warmly. "I'll just pull you two out. River-Song, I might need your help, so be prepared to get off your lazy butt and pull."

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't," River-Song yawns, clearly holding a grudge about their pleas for her silence.

Rolling his eyes, Seth sets his feet far apart, and pulls. The green hose is slippery and damp, water still clinging to the rubbery surface from its last use. If it hadn't been for the brutal training at the BBM, Seth would've lost his grip and gone tumbling backwards, or maybe into the gravity bubble as well. As it is, he can barely manage to get a few steps in.

Thankfully, though, the fairies quite quickly catch onto his plan. With a thousand beating wings, they descend onto the hose, tugging with delicate hands and delicate beating wings on the hose. Seth smiles as Bracken and Brach swiftly approach the edge of the bubble, and as other fairies caught in the gravity bubble spill out into the open air.

Bracken comes first, collapsing in a gasping heap on the ground with a shirt drenched in sweat. Grinding his teeth and flexing his muscles, baring his teeth with effort, Seth drags back the hose a few more feet, refusing to lessen his grip at all. Brach follows soon after the unicorn, beating his wings excitedly and rising high above the house. His wings cast colored shadows on the ground.

Seth falls back into the cool grass, his back hitting the earth with a resounding thump. After assuring the fact that no fairies had gotten trapped beneath him, Seth reclines against the grass, letting the dew caress his face with tickling green fingers. The water feels good against his skin, and though the dampness doesn't penetrate his cloak's mysterious fabric, it feels good as it soaks his shirt's sleeves, creeping further onto the material.

"What was that?" he breathes softly, eyes fluttering close and breath swirling up into the air.

"I don't know," calls Brach from above, "but I think someone should grab some caution tape and swaddle that spot in it."

* * *

"Mother dear, mother darling...," Tatiana sings to herself, the high, swooping tone hardening into a screech issued from her crusty beak. "Mother dearest, mother beloved... child of mine, oh little child, your mother knows best..."

* * *

**OMG GUYS OMG**

**I HAVE MISSED YOU ALL SOOOOOOOO MUCH!**

**FORGET TRYING TO BE A COOL, ALOOF WRITER YOU GUYS ARE MY BUDDIES!**

**AND I HAVE MISSED YOU SOOOOOOOO MUCH!**

**PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR NOT HAVING UPDATED IN SOOOOOOO LONG. SUMMER IS BUSY. I DON'T LIKE IT. **

**I TOTALLY PLAN ON CONTINUING THIS SERIES. IT WAS MY FIRST AND IT WILL BE MY LAST. I'M JUST REALLY, REALLY BUSY, OKAY? SO QUIT ASKING, IT HURTS MY FEELINGS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I'D NEVER GIVE THIS STORY UP. **

**POLL: HAI**

**Ciao,**

**~wolfluvermh**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"What is going on?" Thunder-Bolt murmurs, collapsing on bed of springy moss before the great statue of Cadeliah, his ears folding back as he gazes up at the jeweled eyes. "What are we supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?"

Growling to himself, Thunder-Bolt squeezes his eyes shut, hunching his shoulders and tilting his muzzle to the ground. A tremble runs through his body, shaking his paws. "For star's sake, you're supposed to be the mother of all wolves! You're supposed to know best, or at least better! Why have you left us all alone? Why have you left me?"

He peers up once more at the still statue, to find that it hadn't moved – however, one of the stone orbs popped into the eye socket of the carving falls out. As it hits the ground with a solid crack, the blue surface webs with cracks, but it doesn't break, held together.

Thunder-Bolt breathes in, tasting a warm cinnamon scent on his tongue. A warm voice massages his weary brain and envelopes his sorrows with a sense of security.

_Oh, my little Thunder-Bolt. How could I ever leave you? And you are right – a mother does know best. Quickly, now, take the orb to my granddaughter, the one that shares my name. She will decrypt my message. _

* * *

"They look like jewels," Flocon gasps, his jaw falling open. "Like women carved from jewels. And their wings – like shimmery fabrics." The damp grass tickling his paws with their gentle dewy tears, he grows slightly closer to the fountain coated in the fairies which had caught his attention. "They're so beautiful. More beautiful than anything I have ever seen."

Taking notice of the awed pup gazing reverently up at them, the fairies fluff their hair and bat their colorful wings, as if attempting to put the little one into a trance with the magical pallet of every-changing colors.

"Careful," Flash-Foot warns, looking up from the animal skull he'd been gnawing religiously at. "They can be bewitching, those fairies. Their beauty has been known to enchant."

"Aren't they just enchanting?" Flocon whispers, his eyes growing round a few drift lazily towards him, encircling the pup with trails of sparkling powder left in their wakes. "Oh, my, and the way they smell…" Flocon breathes in deeply, the scent of pure magic tickling his nose. "It's almost how my mother smells, after a long day at work."

Standing to a superior height over the younger pup, Flash-Foot trots over, his wings held half-ajar at his sides, their clouded blue and grey patterning seeming almost like rainclouds. "Magic, eh?"

Eyeing the fairies with his startlingly bright blue eyes, Flash-Foot slams his wings out to their full wingspan in an attempt to appear intimidating. "Using magic on little pups," he growls, baring his ivory fangs, silently hoping they recognize the length his fangs have grown since he was a baby and here last. "Is that how low you're stooping to? Buzz off, butterflies."

Their serene faces break into expressions of rage. Even the fairies still hovering over the water seem to glare at him. Flocon, seeming distressed by their change in personality, hesitates, backing up, casting worried glances Flash-Foot's direction as the fairies converge onto him.

Flash-Foot does not falter. He continues to growl low in his throat, praying that they find him more intimidating than he finds them. But, as they swirl around him in ever-tightening circles, sneering unintelligible insults, Flash-Foot realizes they don't find him intimidating at all.

"Flocon." Flash-Foot is surprised by how calm his voice sounds. "Get to my mother. She's still sleeping by the pool. Run. Don't let the fairies catch you."

The wolf pup hesitates, casting dubious glances towards the tornado of fairies swirling around Flash-Foot. "What about you?"

"I'll manage."

A loud, powerful bark echoes through the garden. Another wolf throws out his wings to their full wingspan, baring his enormous fangs and growling so loudly the ground beneath Flash-Foot's paws seems to tremble. Fury gleams in a pair of salmon orange eyes as Brach accosts the fairies, his pinkish monarch butterfly wings trembling angrily.

He rumbles something in a foreign language threateningly, muzzle folding in a tremendous snarl tagged onto the end of the sentence for emphasis. The wolf's white pelt is highlighted by the sea of obnoxious colors, powerful against the emerald of the garden and the rainbow of the fairies.

The fairies chitter irritably, and flutter off, making rude gestures towards Brach. Taking no notice of the fairies, the wolf turns to Flash-Foot, his snarl fading into a gentle smile.

"You two troublemakers, get to your mother. She knows how to ward off fairies better than anyone."

* * *

Kendra feels slightly safer here in the old mansion – but _slightly_ is a stretch. There is a very, very small margin of comfort to be found. Not even Bracken's assuaging heartbeat can soothe her rapid jump of terror to nightmare.

"So these things – these little bad spots…" Seth cocks his head, frowning. "They popped up everywhere? All over the world? In the same instant?"

"Best we could tell," sighs Fiona wearily. She reclines in the doorway of the family room, her chocolate brown fur bedraggled and her gaze sleepy. With the help of her mother's consciousness and the Soul Stone's mysterious abilities, she'd gotten rid of the spot without gravity outside, but it'd tired her a lot – not that she'd been that bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with pups running around her feet.

"How about you get some sleep, Fiona?" Bracken advises, smiling softly at the young mother. "We don't know if we'll need your assistances again, and if you're dead on your feet, you won't be able to help much."

"Says the sick unicorn," Fiona snaps back, a hint of her fiery temper returning. "Can we just talk for a second about what's really happening? A sick unicorn? Does that have anything to do with… everything?"

Seth shrugs. "I'm more interested with the 'why' question. Why?"

"And how?" Cassandra adds, her owlish face peeking over Seth's shoulder. Her golden talons sink into his cloak, and she maintains a perch on Kendra's brother, nibbling affectionately at the nick she'd torn out from his ear as they'd fled the new and improved Demon King.

Kendra shivers slightly at the memory of the fearsome beast, but quickly blocks the flood of horrible images returning to her.

She can't keep obsessing over him.

He's gone.

And he's not coming back.

"So, let's say that this is for a reason," Boro ventures, his majestic golden coat of fur sparkling in the dim light, crowning him in a kingly glow. "What is that reason? Is someone… doing this to us? Who would have that sort of power?"

"Jadium said there were a few people of immense power that he had to look out for." Kendra struggles to ignore the way Bracken goes rigid at the mention of Jadium, his jaw clenching with hatred. "He said… the Soul Bearer, Tatiana, the Dragon Mother, and… maybe the Fairy Queen? I can't really remember."

After an awkward moment of silence – nobody really likes bringing up Jadium, considering he imprisoned Kendra and stole away Chaos – Bracken speaks.

"It sounds rather accurate," he admits, tilting his head to one side. Kendra's cheeks warm as his silvery blue eyes study her appraisingly. "I think we can scratch out the Fairy Queen and the Soul Bearer as suspects, but the other two…"

"I don't know if my mother has that sort of power," Cassandra pipes up, twisting her avian head around quizzically. "She didn't last time we met, that's for sure. But then again, she's been bizarrely quiet for a long time now – she could be cooking something up."

"No offense, Cassie, but last time we met, it's not like she'd been active for a while before then." Seth strokes her head, brushing back her feathers with an alien cautiousness. "I mean, maybe she was meddling with things she shouldn't have been on her quest for vengeance. Maybe this is a byproduct of her madness. No offense."

"None taken." Cassandra shivers, shaking her feathers out like a dog. "She's bonkers, let's face it."

"Okay, well, that's one option, but me, myself?" Fiona huffs fierily. "I think we need to look into the Dragon Mother option a bit more. So, what's the scoop on her?"

Kendra eagerly awaits for answers as well, fascinated with the sudden turn of the conversation, happy to finally receive some information about the elusive Mother – she'd snippets about the Mother from the beginning of her time travelling with Cadeliah, but never more than snippets. However, no one, evidently, has heard any more than her.

"She's a ghost," Boro states eventually, his ears swiveling uncertainly about. "Look, I've heard the rumors, same as you, Fiona, but Cadeliah was the only one that knew anything adamant about her. We don't know if she's good or she's bad."

"Right, right," Fiona grumps, shaking her head irately. "But you know what? Not one of those rumors were good. The very mother of all the dragons, curled up at the heart of the earth, warming the core with her fire. My mother told me once she murdered the father of all dragons just because she didn't want any more children."

"She also bore him _thousands_ of children," Bracken rasps, cocking a single silvery eyebrow. "We don't know the entire story, so we shouldn't question it. Thousands of children doesn't exact points to a peachy relationship. In fact… it sounds rather abusive to me. Who knows? Maybe the father of the dragons is better dead."

"Wait…" Kendra tilts her head to one side. "So, the Dragon Mother is… the first dragon?"

"According to legend," Fiona growls, resting her chin on her paws, "she was. She's apparently been here since the beginning of time, and was the root of all dragonic lines. No one knows if she exists or not, but if both Jadium and Cadeliah both believe in her… I guess she really is there. I wonder where…"

"Where is illogical."

Kendra jumps, slamming into Bracken by accident, eyes wide with shock. Perched on a windowsill is a creature that hadn't been there moments before, or at least hadn't been visible – a white pup stares through the distorted glass, her fur as pure and untainted as winter's first crystal teardrop.

"Cadeliah?" Fiona bolts to her feet, eyes wide with terror. "Cadeliah, get down from there! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"I'll be fine, mother." She half-cocks her head towards the group, so only one of her eyes are visible, the royal purple one. "I know. Please, do not interrupt me as I think for the greater good."

Cadeliah Jr.'s voice sends shivers down Kendra's spine – there isn't a dollop of emotion or inflection in her tone. It means that there isn't any negativity, no anger or hate or misery, but there isn't anything to tell that she's feeling the opposite of said emotions either. That one violently purple eye doesn't move or twitch as a normal one would to study the minute movements of those around it – it remains perfectly still, staring at absolutely nothing with an unwavering gaze.

"Cadeliah," Boro pleads, voice shaking, "get down from there!"

"I will not repeat myself." Cadeliah turns back towards the window, allowing the white light to halo her pale furry body, like an angel wrapped in heavenly radiance. "Is anyone going to let him in?"

"What – ?" Seth scrunches his brow, staring at the pup in confusion. "Let who in? What is she –"

The doorbell rings obnoxiously, cutting Kendra's brother off. Everyone in the room jumps, and the dreadful mood the little pup at the windowsill had plunged the company into vanishes. River-Song wheezes at the reactions of all, rolling her deep blue eyes incredulously.

"Come, now," she chides, baring her ivory teeth, "weren't you expecting more? Not going to leave the little fairy out in the cold, are you?"

The hiss of a door swinging open and Grandma's voice greeting whoever or whatever stands on the porch with welcoming tones sounds. A quick thudding of four paws echoes through the house; a while wolf pokes his head in through the door, now adorned with a gleaming, mirrorlike golden helmet. After glancing the room up and down, realizing that there are no more places a wolf his size could wedge in, Brach sits heavily out in the hallway, fanning the air with his gossamer wings.

"Thunder-Bolt received a message from Cadeliah Senior," he reports promptly, his tone stiff. "His method of travel is slightly slower than Winking, but he will be arriving soon. However, he wanted me to deliver this" – Brach lowers his head and opens his mouth, gently setting a surreal blue colored marble on the floor – "to Cadeliah Junior. Cadeliah, do you know why?"

"Of course not." Cadeliah springs down from her windowsill, waddling more than striding. "Why would she send it to me if I knew why she sent it? That's a stupid question."

"Cadeliah!" Fiona's vengeful paw whacks the side of her pup's face, a sharp punishment. "Enough with your rudeness! Apologize to your uncle!"

Eyes smoldering angrily, Cadeliah looks up at Brach, still inching towards the marble. "I'm very sorry, Brach. I forgot how touchy normal wolves are."

Fiona whacks her again, this time influencing a snarl from Cadeliah. She whirls on her enraged mother, baring her teeth like a cornered rat might, tail held high.

"Cadeliah," whispers Juliana from the crook in between her father's forelegs, her ears folded back against her chocolate-colored head. "Please, Cadeliah, don't make more of a problem out of this."

Her wide, amber eyes seem fearful – perhaps the child is terrified of speaking, which, considering that Kendra has never heard the sound of her high, sweet voice before, is extremely probable.

It appears to have a calming effect on Cadeliah – snorting dismissively to keep her cool, controlled attitude about her, Cadeliah dips her head respectfully to Brach.

"Sorry," she grunts. "Won't happen again."

"Yes, it will," Brach chuckles, throwing up his head. "You're not even a teenager yet. This is only going to get worse. But no sassing me, you hear? I'm the only one in this family to give you any sort of lenience. I will be respected."

"Yes, sir." And, to Kendra's surprise, Cadeliah seems much more impressed by Brach's genteel, accepting aura – a child like that, she supposes, has to be given a leash, but a long one.

"Here you go, kid." Brach noses the marble over to Cadeliah. "Whaddaya make of that?"

"It's Earth," she says immediately, crouching down and positioning the orb between her two neat white paws.

"What do you mean, it's Earth?" Bracken inquires, furrowing his brow. "Is it a representation of Earth? Is it a voodoo doll type thing of Earth?"

"At this point," Seth adds, stroking Cassandra's avian head, "I wouldn't be all that surprised if that little marble _was_ Earth. Like, we all existed on that marble's surface, tiny ant things, waiting to be smacked by a bigger marble."

"Stop being illiterate," Cassandra scolds, pulling at a strand of his hair with her beak. "I see what she's getting at. The surface, it's blue, which is accurate considering most of Earth is made of water. Whatever Cadeliah Senior wants to tell us, it has something to do with the entire planet."

Boro nods thoughtfully, his golden pelt rippling. "The mystery spots are all over the world. As far as we can tell, there's not a length of a hundred miles anywhere without a mystery spot _somewhere_."

"What is it, Cadeliah?" Kendra questions urgently, being the first to notice the way she sits up, straightening her fur importantly, as if preparing to deliver news.

"This is my grandmother's way of figuring it out." Cadeliah gazes around the room, her deep, violet eye blinking slightly off cadence with her brilliant gold one. "Say this is Earth itself. Most of you don't have the visual capacity to see it at your distance, but it's riddled with cracks. And not your average cracks, either – _perfect_ cracks."

"I'm no hoity-toity scientist," River-Song grunts, "but I'm pretty sure perfect cracks are impossible. There's always a flaw in the surface somewhere, usually on the molecular level, which perfect cracks impossible."

Cadeliah looks mildly impressed, smiling approvingly at the grey fairy wolf. "At least one of you knows what I'm talking about. Perfect cracks are what happen when you apply pressure from all sides of an object – like, say, this marble – and it cracks flawlessly, in a perfect geometric design. Usually, as Miss River-Song has pointed out, such acts are impossible, with either faults in the equal pressure on the outer surface or in the object itself. But this…" Cadeliah cocks her head, smiling down at the marble. "This is fascinating. Not only has it cracked in geometric perfection, but it's holding together like a dream."

"We haven't really nailed down positions and looked at them on a map," Fiona acknowledges, "so it could be utterly possible there's some geometric perfection to this."

"So you're saying," Brach realizes slowly, his gears clicking behind his golden helmet, "that Earth is cracking, just like that marble." He takes a deep breath, staring off into space, frowning. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but Earth's crust is riddled with inconsistencies and faults. How is Earth going to crack like that?"

"And what does that have to do with these mystery spots?" Kendra tags onto the end of his analysis.

"I do love it when people figure things out, so I don't have to explain it," Cadeliah sighs dreamily. "It's not Earth itself that's cracking. It's the laws of physics, the rules of what exactly happens. Things like time, gravity, death, life, destiny – everything. It's not the planet that's cracking beneath our paws – it's the world as we know it."

* * *

Aladdin carries the Soul Stone gingerly in his jaws. His paws ache and his back wails with protest. So many days of walking. How much agony can one life hold? Through how many memories must he travel?

_Mother, mother dearest_, he prays, his eyes rolling shut, _please save us all._

* * *

**Hai, friends, I back again. **

**How is all of you?**

**POLL: Cadeliah Jr – creepy, much? But honestly, is it good or bad? When Chaos described Cadeliah Sr, he said she was an oddball as well. Will Cadeliah Jr's dark, cryptic behavior lead her to become just like her namesake, or shall the dark only grow darker? I know you don't have much to go on, but it'll be interesting to see.**

**Ciao,**

**~wolfluvermh**


End file.
